Where Sand Meets Sea:

The Adventures of Horan Sand

Chapter I

Lord Qorgyle was near death. The sickness was extremely virulent taking the life out of him as fast as the night takes the warmth out of the air. Merely two days ago he was escorting the trading convoy from the dunes into the keep. Now he looked as small and dry as the scorpions that bore their banners. Where the muscular Lord of Sandstone famed for his skill on a horse was now a weak old man reduced to a deathbed.

He lay in his bed silently moving his lips and eyes. Aside from the small rhythmic movements of his chest they were the only parts of his body that still gave off the hint of life. He could have been praying to the seven or trying to convey a last confession. Horan leaned in closer to his father. His eyes showed no stimulus of his presence and no sound came from his mouth.

He grasped on to his father boney, dry, and chilled hand.

"I'll miss you father." He choked out.

If he heard him he gave no notice. Horan rose and walked out of the lord's chambers. On his way descending through the dark he met the future Lord of Sandstone. Gulian with a torch in hand followed by Maester Muli and Steward Rusoron.

"Wipe the tears out of your eyes Sand. Sandston's lord is dying this is no time for weeping like Omon." Gulian barked loud enough so that it echoed up and down the stairway. His black eyes illuminated by the torch showed pure hatred for him.

"I'm sorry brother I'll be on my way." He said in a respectful tone undeserving for the likes of Gulian.

"Your no brother of mine." He spat at his feet and marched up to their father's chambers.

Horan continued his descent from the Untouched tower. Named because it was supposedly the only part of the castle above the ground that didn't fall to the dragon fire of the Targaryen's in The First Dornish War.

Suddenly he was grabbed from behind strong thick fingers as big as sausages pulled Horan into the shadows. The fingers and arms restricted his voice and body. He felt that they were going down. Deep down into the catacombs and caves of Sandstone. He stopped struggling and started to feel tired as the tunnel got darker and colder. Finally he was laid down on a chilled moist slab of rock. The fingers retreated from his face. Horan tried to scream but he started to cough fiercely. He could barely muster out "Who?".

The fingers reappeared by the light of a candle. "Don't worry Sandy I'm here to help."

Only one person in the entire castle called him that. Estron was the master of horses for the castle. With Horan's desire to ride almost daily they became close. "Estron?" he coughed.

"Yes, Sandy keep quite. Even though we are in the deep dark there are ears everywhere."

"Why are we down here? Who is listening?" he croaked.

"The Lord Scorpion has been poisoned by his very own son. He seeks to be the sole ruler of Sandstone. He knows that Arron is as good as dead in the hands of the Lannisters. He's prepared to kill anyone that poses a threat to his birthright."

"But that means." He said in fear.

"Yes, you and Omon are in danger of being killed. You must flee. I've payed off two guards at your chambers. Grab what ever you need and come to me at the stables. Be quick; you leave tonight." He said.

"But…But" he stammered he had so many questions. He didn't want to leave. Sandstone was his home. He wouldn't know where else to go.

"No time for that now Sandy. Now turn around walk twenty paces and you come to a wall push on it and you'll be in staircase leading up to your chambers. Now hurry!" He exclaimed.

"Horan did as he was told. He was nearly crying when he felt the cold damp wall of rock. He pushed forward. He could hear the internal clicks of gears. He pushed harder and soon he had made a crack big enough to move through. He soon was in a dark barely lit stair case. He climbed up the steps and arrived at his room. He walked past the two guards and found Omon asleep. He would wake him last. He threw off his shoes and donned his tan riding cloak and boots. He pulled his hood over his head. He fastened his belt onto his waist while sliding in his dirks and putting his bow and quiver over his back.

Suddenly there were two clangs of metal on metal from outside. Horan turned around dirks in hand as the door exploded. Horan found himself on the ground in a pile of splinters that use to be his bed. In the doorway was Gulian and two men-at-arms.

Gulian walked over to Omon who just woke up. He started to wail and hit Gulian in the face.

" Ahh you cur!" he shrieked as he threw his brother out the window.

The anger in Horan built up and up. He grabbed the lamp next to him and threw it at the two guards. The oil drenched their boiled leather breasts and the flame engulfed their bodies. The screams where horrible. He sliced open the first one's belly as the sizzling organs spewed out. Before he could get to the second the flames had done their job. The petrified Gulian stood frozen with fear.

"Kinslayer!" Horan shouted as he punched Gulian in the cheek and the ribs. Gulian collapsed as Horan jumped out of the other window.

The olives trees broke most of the fall but a base branch nearly broke his back. He wobbled out of the grove and ran to the stables. He found Estron saddling up his sand steed. Estron heard him approaching and drew a longsword. He immediately put it away when he recognized him.

"Estron Gulian killed Oman!" He cried out."

"That murderous beast. The seven will judge him harsh. But we can't stay here and mourn him. There is still hope to save you." He said near tears. He lifted Horan up onto the saddle. "Head east through the desert past Hellholt. Go as far as Sunspear and then keep goi…."

He was cut short by the alarm bell. The castle guards where coming up onto parapet. One guard had already scene them and was notching an arrow. Estron slapped the back of the horse and Horan took the reins.

"Go Horan and do no" and that where the last words of Estron as an arrow pierced his throat.

Horan sped the horse towards the gates. He snatched a weary guard's lance out of his hand and nearly impaled the other but only managed to pierce the fabric at his side. This was still enough force to throw him backwards. He stormed out through the gates arrows raining down as he drove his mount through the bazaar. Still sprinting the horse went through the last gate and out into the cool clear night.